


The Quiet Game

by ode_to_an_inkwell



Series: Games of Innocence [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Sneaking Around, Vaginal Fingering, hymen reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28362090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ode_to_an_inkwell/pseuds/ode_to_an_inkwell
Summary: A sharp whine broke past her lips. They both froze, listening for their mother. The thought of Catelyn kicking the door in to find his hand down Sansa’s pants chilled him to the bone. When the seconds passed and they heard nothing, Jon wiggled his fingers.“I need you to be quiet for me, baby. You can do that, can’t you?”
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Games of Innocence [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688002
Comments: 16
Kudos: 95





	The Quiet Game

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back!  
> For those of you who don't know, my s/o got Covid which then turned into pneumonia, so I've not been able to write much. We're both healthy now, so thank you to my friends who've kept us in your thoughts. You all mean the world to me.  
> I'm glad to be back in my Jonsa world, and ready to celebrate with some smut. I hope you're all having a wonderful holiday season!

The summer passed in a flash of Sansa’s smiles, his hands in her hair, and legs that never seemed to end. Jon brought on sleepless nights trying to hold onto each memory, every perfect day he got to spend with his sister. H consumed them, eating up the time they had together like a glutton. The week before his classes began they hardly spoke, withdrawing into the comfort of just being together without having to face hard truths. They took to hiding whenever their parents were home, unwilling to give up even a second left to them.

Sansa’s door didn’t lock, so Jon pushed the desk in front of it. Cat was in the next room, probably working on her embroidery. The sound of her singing occasionally came through the wall.

The full-size bed was smaller than Jon’s and littered with pillows, so they snuggled close. They spent a half hour in silence when a pitiful hiccup betrayed Sansa’s mood. He scratched her scalp just the way she liked, letting her know he’d heard it, and waited for her words.

“I don’t want you to go.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Why’d you have to pick a school so far?”

The Wall wasn’t on the other side of the world, but it might as well have been for how it might keep them apart.

“I only applied to far-away places,” he explained.

Sansa blinked up at him, the tip of her nose red. “Why?”

Jon kissed her nose. “Because I never dreamed you could care for me, too.”

She sighed now, her romantic sensibilities momentarily appeased. He looked down at her misty eyes, hating that he’d brought the fog that hid her sunshine.

“Do you want me to tell dad I changed my mind about going?”

“You can’t do that,” Sansa sniffed. “I’ll just have to suffer.”

When her voice cracked he kissed her fast. She pawed at his chest, trying to pull him closer. Jon nuzzled her jaw, nipped her earlobe.

“No more tears, princess. I can’t stand to see you cry.”

Her arms locked around his neck as he pushed a knee between her legs. His fingers slipped past her pajamas, brushed her lower belly. She squeaked.

“Shush now,” he whispered. “Let me take care of you, baby. You know I’ll always take care of you, right?”

Her hips swayed under his palm.

“Mhm.”

“You know that I love you, princess?”

She nodded.

The lace trim of her panties met his questing fingers.

“Yes?”

_“Please.”_

He’d never thought to hear Sansa beg for his touch. Soft curls, a warmth that drew him in. He reached down, so carefully, until the pad of his longest finger found her. _Fuck_. There she was, wet and petal soft. He stroked upward, just feeling her, and found a hot little bundle that must have been her clit. He rubbed a circle into her and she moaned.

“Hush, pretty girl.”

Another circle and she gasped. Jon kissed her temple, thinking of what he wanted to whisper next. She deserved sweet words. The end of summer sun shone through her window, kissing her cheeks. Her legs fell apart and a musky scent hit him, made him dizzy.

“You’re perfect,” he said, biting off a groan.

Sansa clutched his forearm where it disappeared beneath her clothes. She met his eyes, her blue gaze gone hazy. _I did that_. He dipped his index to her opening, watched her mouth fall open before he drew a line back to her clit. Her fingers flexed on his arm.

“That feel good?”

A sharp whine broke past her lips. They both froze, listening for their mother. The thought of Catelyn kicking the door in to find his hand down Sansa’s pants chilled him to the bone. When the seconds passed and they heard nothing, Jon wiggled his fingers.

“I need you to be quiet for me, baby. You can do that, can’t you?”

Her little smile told him to keep going. He kissed her neck instead, hand flat against her. She tried to rub into his palm, but he held her still. Her nails dug into his arm.

“I’ll be quiet,” she breathed. “I promise.”

Sansa tugged on his wrist. He curled his fingers again, spread her wetness around. Her lashes fluttered.

“Thank you.”

Jon tried to breathe steady, all the blood rushing below making him feel light-headed. His first time in her room and he was near on passing out.

“Is this how you like to touch yourself?” he asked.

She peeked down as he rolled her clit, then fell back on her pillows. The tugging on his wrist directed him lower.

“Did you know I could hear you from my room?” He pressed his mouth to her ear. “Did you think of me, Sansa?”

He ached to hear it, that she couldn’t help but imagine him. He’d never been able to stop his own thoughts from running rampant. He told her as much, whispered the filth he’d done as he pictured her face.

“Be a good girl and tell me true,” he said, unable to quell his own depravity. “Did you ever imagine big brother while you played with this princess pussy?”

She gave a silent gasp, and he feared he’d gone too far. But her fingers moved atop his own, pressing him into her center. He studied her expression, lost himself in her lovely desperation.

“You’ll have to answer if you want me inside you.”

“ _Yes._ ”

Jon didn’t hear her answer so much as he felt it in the huff of her breath against his cheek. He kissed her forehead in silent praise. She was beaming, content, when he drew back. He watched for any sign reservation as he gave her what she wanted.

Sansa drenched his finger as he eased it inside her, taking such care not to apply any pressure. She was so _fucking_ warm, so _godsdamn_ tight. He had to shut his eyes for a second so he didn’t embarrass himself. When he sunk in to the first joint she gasped. He opened his eyes again to see her face screwed up, but it smoothed in a blink and she relaxed into her pillows. He was still until she clenched down, sucking his finger in deeper. Her heat spread to his blood, making him burn.

“You okay, princess?”

“Don’t stop,” she mumbled. “Pretty please.”

They shared a smile. He always wanted her smiles. He’d hoard them like a miser.

Tender backs and forths as he worked his way inside. With each little thrust he moved deeper until she’d taken him to the knuckle. He could thrum her clit while his middle finger filled her up. Her head fell back when he did.

He was gentle, so gentle when he moved that finger, tickling inside her. She slapped a hand over her mouth. He did it again, watching her chest heave. Both hands held her mouth shut now, and her walls clamped down so hard he thought she might break his finger.

Sansa panted as she pulled him down for a kiss.

“That…that was…”

Jon kissed her again, just because he could. Her whole face was pink, her red hair more mussed than he’d ever seen it. She was a goddess.

When he withdrew his finger he saw red swirls mixed in with the clear sticky fluids. He frowned.

“Is that…?” He looked to Sansa now, his heart constricting. “Did I…?”

“I think so,” she whispered. “It stung for a second, but then it was gone.”

He ducked his head, looking for the words. How could he ever apologize? He’d taken her maidenhood, his own sister! He’d _hurt_ her. Would the gods ever forgive him? He was defiling her, his precious Sansa. What kind of a man could he ever hope to become?

“Hey.” She took hold of his face, made him look at her. “I’m glad it was you.”

There was no arguing with her. Still…

“Are you sure?”

She kissed between his brow to dispel his brooding. “I’m yours, Jon.”

He didn’t imagine he could let it go so quickly, though she didn’t _seem_ upset. No, she was glowing. He tucked his shame away for later. There was no need to ruin their last few days together.

“And I’m yours.”


End file.
